A Conference of Men
by i am a bee
Summary: From the moment they met, Magnus and Alec were inexplicably drawn to each other. Forced to hide their love from their family and friends, they struggled to stay together even when all of the odds were against them. This is their story.
1. Put on an argyle sweater and put on a sm

**Prologue: **

**Put on an argyle sweater and put on a smile**

Even with his eyes closed, he could see the city. It played against the insides of his eyelids, coursing through his veins like a toxin and he could hear it pulsing loudly where his ear compressed itself against the headrest of the taxi. Normally, this sensation would be cause enough for him to rouse himself from his slumped posture – any fleeting reference to blood made him slightly nauseous – but tonight he didn't. It was just too much – much too much – and he couldn't be bothered.

He was flanked, in the back of the taxi, by Isabelle and Jace on either side. Clary sat in the front seat anxiously glancing back at him from time to time while trying, most unsuccessfully, to remain inconspicuous. No one spoke. There was no need, there was nothing to say, not really, yet the silence was palpable, pressing heavily upon them from all directions.

Warm fingers laced themselves through his much colder ones and he could feel the slow transfer of heat from Isabelle's body to his own. _The second law of thermodynamics states that heat will always flow from a warmer body to a cooler one, _he recited mechanically. Apart from the whole demon thing, Shadowhunter schooling wasn't really that different from the mundane education system and Hodge had insisted that they have a broad understanding of the arts and sciences.

After what seemed like an eternity, the taxi slowed to a stop. He could hear Clary murmuring to the driver, the rustle of bills being exchanged.

"Alec?" Jace whispered. "We're here."

Alec opened his eyes for the first time since entering the taxi. It was raining, but he already knew that – the drops had been audible against the roof of the car for the entire duration of the ride.

Isabelle eased her hand away and prepared to exit the vehicle. The taxi shuddered as the other passengers eased themselves out, slamming the doors shut behind them. Isabelle held her door open and helped Alec out. She laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it supportively.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her perfect features marked with concern. "You know that you don't have to do this. It's okay."

Alec swallowed loudly and took a moment to collect himself. "No," he started, his voice completely devoid of any emotion, "you're wrong. I do have to do this." He shrugged her hand off and walked into the cemetery alone.

*

Night had long since fallen and Alec was still awake. Following the funeral, they'd returned to the Institute. He'd initially resisted the overwhelming impulse to run to his room. He'd sat with the others in the kitchen. Maryse had prepared food but none of them had had any appetite to speak of. At her insistence, the others had eaten a bit but Alec hadn't been able to stomach anything. The very thought of food had made his stomach rise to his throat and he'd simply shaken his head. By the time that his mother had suggested that they retire to the living room for more comfortable seating arrangements, he'd barely been able to stand it. He'd been the last one to rise from the dining room and, instead of following them, had slipped upstairs. Had he been asked how he ended up in his room, he wouldn't have been able to explain it. It hadn't been a conscious decision; on the contrary, it'd been instinctual. He couldn't have stayed for a minute more. He was simply there, in his bedroom, just as he'd been in the taxi before and then the cemetery, the taxi again – a different taxi, this time – and then finally the kitchen.

As he watched the night sky turn to day, Alec was struck, not for the first time, by the strangeness of mourning. He'd refused to wear the traditional white funeral dress that was favoured by Shadowhunters and had worn all black instead. _For once, the mundane world seems to have it all figured out_. _Black _is_ more appropriate for mourning, _he decided._ It absorbs, consumes, in a way that reflective white cannot._

*

"Alec."

He was running. An acrid, coppery taste filled his mouth and he was thirsty. He knew that he couldn't stop running.

"Alec."

He didn't know what he was running from, but he knew more surely than anything else, the importance that he keep running. Something grabbed him, high on his upper arms, and the drag began to slow him. He knew that he couldn't stop and his muscles screamed in displeasure as he continued running. It became harder and harder to breathe and he found himself gasping for air. No matter how quickly he breathed, he could not seem to get enough oxygen. The darkness pricked at his field of vision and he knew that he was going to lose consciousness.

"_Alec!"_

His eyes flew open and he became aware of a golden-haired stranger shaking him. _Jace._

"Alec, it's just a dream!" Jace searched his face for some sign that his words were registering. Alec's eyes were wild; he was almost unrecognisable in his fear. His complexion was sallow in the soft light and it was not hard to tell that he'd lost weight, his razor-sharp cheekbones casting shadows across the rest of his face.

Jace brushed his hair back from his face and Alec was reminded vaguely of his mother doing the same thing when he was a child. _Nature, 0, nurture, 1_.

"Alec," Jace started, "it's been over three months."

Alec knew this better than Jace did, actually. It _had_ been over three months. It had been 108 days, to be precise. He stared at him, unable to comprehend why this was significant.

"It's been over three months," Jace repeated, "and you're still having the dreams."

Alec's brows drew together. Jace really was making no sense at all.

"Don't you think that it's time to move on?"

"Move on?" Alec asked him, blankly, "What do you mean by that?"

Jace struggled for a moment before replying, "At the risk of sounding insensitive, one of these days, you're going to have to accept the fact that he's gone. He's never coming back, Alec."

* * *

**A/N: This is the first attempt I've ever made at writing fiction of any kind. Sois gentil. **

**All of the characters, etc. belong to Cassandra Clare.**

**Comments and criticisms would be greatly appreciated.**


	2. C’est dur d’être libre comme toi

**Chapter One: **

_**C'est dur d'être libre comme toi**_

**(It's hard to be as free as you)**

"Shit, shit, shit!" Alec Lightwood was pacing. It was a recent addition to his long list of neuroses and, to his disappointment, it had become a bit of a habit.

"Alec, darling, you do realise that this little problem of yours has a relatively simple solution, don't you?"

Upon hearing this, he stopped moving abruptly, mid-stride. "Magnus, there's nothing even remotely _simple_ about this at all!"

Magnus Bane was not pacing. Truth be told, he was not even on his feet. The High Warlock of Brooklyn was sprawled suggestively across a chaise, clad only in a brocade housecoat and slippers. "Have you considered," he asked slowly, "_simply_ telling them the truth?"

Alec shot Magnus a look of patent disdain. "Why _don't _I just tell them the truth? I can start off by saying, 'Well, Mom, you see, the real reason I didn't come home last night was that I was with my boyfriend, Magnus Bane. You've met before – surely you remember him. By the way, did I mention that I'm _gay_?_' _Is _that_ the truth you think I should tell them? They're Shadowhunters, Magnus!"

"– which is my point, exactly, Alexander! They're Shadowhunters," he explained patiently, "they're not neo-Nazi gay-bashers. They're your _parents_. Do you know what that means?"

Alec fumed silently.

"What that means, my darling, is that they love you unconditionally. During my three hundred years –"

"Magnus!" Alec interrupted. "If you say that you are three hundred years old one more time –"

"A lady never reveals her true age!" Magnus replied indignantly. "Anyway, my age is irrelevant. In all of my time spent on this Earth, do you know what the one thing that never ceases to shock me is?" He paused dramatically for effect.

Alec, who apparently had little intention of humouring him by responding to his rhetorical questions, ignored him.

"What I marvel at time and time again, you uncouth boy, is the propensity of the human race to love blindly even when it is obvious to everyone else that it would be in their best interests to have a little more sense from time to time. Besides which, it's not as though you've changed. You're exactly the same boy you've always been –" he trailed off, and then switched gears, "– despite my best attempts to the contrary! Must you insist on wearing those horrid sweaters? Let's say it together now, Alexander: _Pra-_da_, Gucc-_i_. _You know, with your build, a little YSL would do wonderful, magical things..." His eyes glazed over.

Curious, Alec fingered the material of the item of clothing in suspect. "What's wrong with my sweaters? They're perfectly functional!"

Magnus gasped. "_Functional_, Alexander? Have I taught you _nothing?_"

*

Jace grabbed Alec roughly and slammed him up against the wall. His fingers were clamped so tightly around Alec's biceps that he knew that they would be replaced by bruises tomorrow. He smiled at the thought. As Jace's body pressed up against his own, Alec felt an instinctual tightening in the pit of his stomach. Their faces were so close that he could smell the mildly spicy scent of Jace's shampoo and he inhaled it deeply. He felt so good...

Before he knew what was happening, Jace yanked his hands above his head and pinned them to the wall. Alec was trapped.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Alec? You have to keep your arm up!" Jace released him and pulled away. "Haven't I taught you anything?"

"Uh, yeah," he panted, "Sorry about that." As much as he needed the practice – and he did, honest – his motives for asking Jace to spar weren't exactly as innocent as they seemed. He may have even slightly under exaggerated his own skills. Maybe.

"Come on, then, let's try this again." They practiced for a little longer but before long, Jace was glancing at his watch. "Sorry, Alec, but I've got to go. I'm supposed to be meeting Clary in an hour and I really need to go shower. Pick this up again, later?"

Alec's heart fell. "Sure, yeah. See you around."

*

Despite the water having long grown cold, Magnus sat on the floor of his shower, his arms locked loosely around his knees. Motionless, he watched the condensation roll in thick fat droplets down the door, carving channels and streams onto the glass. He was in a truly horrible mood and had been ever since Alec had left him to return to the Institute.

A few minutes passed and he was startled out of his reverie by the bathroom door opening. His mind went instinctively to Alec and he glanced upwards, expecting to see the young Shadowhunter's lanky frame filling the doorway. Alec wasn't there. He could see nothing. Perplexed, he peered a little harder through the fog. He was rewarded by a low purr from Chairman Meow who had flopped onto his side and begun stretching himself in a patch of warm sunlight.

Reluctantly, Magnus rose and turned off the faucets, stopping the flow of water. He stepped from the shower and began drying himself. He knotted a towel around his waist with a little more force than was necessary and pushed open the door that connected his ensuite bathroom with his bedroom. Irritated, he stalked into his bedroom towards his spacious walk-in closet. As he stood in front of its mirror, he admired himself for only a moment before glaring at his reflection.

He was being unreasonable. He sighed loudly. Alec _was_ only seventeen and so it came as no real surprise that he was apprehensive about coming out to his parents. Although many modern Shadowhunters had grown gradually more accepting of Downworlders, the society itself was surprisingly intolerant towards homosexuality. Although gays no longer faced overt violence, homosexuality was still a condition that was treated with a _don't ask, don't tell_ attitude. _As if it wasn't already hard enough to be queer in a straight world_, he thought sardonically.

He needed to put on some clothes. Normally dressing was something that Magnus enjoyed – it was cathartic for him and fashion always made him feel happier, somehow. Today, however, as he rifled through his clothes, searching for something that felt right, it was making him feel quite bitchy. His movements became more and more erratic and soon he was simply shoving hangers aside, one after the other, barely even bothering to look at the clothes they displayed. He tried so hard to be patient with Alec, really, he did, but it frustrated him to think of what their relationship could be if the object of his most ardent feelings was able to reciprocate as equally and openly as he, himself, did. It was ironic, really. He made no apologies for his past, but as a self-proclaimed man whore, not once in his life had he ever imagined that he'd someday be in the position he was now.

After finally selecting some clothes, he began to dress. If he was being honest with himself, it wasn't entirely the sneaking around or Alec's obvious shame about their relationship that upset him. It was Jace. He understood and accepted the fact that the two of them were close and had been that way for a long time – they were parabati, they were brothers. It wasn't that he envied their friendship – he _knew_ that Jace had absolutely no romantic interest in Alec whatsoever.

Magnus left his room and made his way to the sitting room where he deposited himself onto the sofa. He smirked; Jace _wasn't _interested in Alec, he had Clary to thank for _that_. She was so young and such a typical selfish teenage girl. She refused to listen to anyone but herself, assuming that she knew more than anyone else about the Shadowhunter world, and was constantly getting herself into dangerous situations. Jace was her usual savior but, in a pinch, anyone would do, really; she wasn't particularly picky. All things considered, it was rather absurd that Jace cared for the girl. She was nice enough, but after each one of their encounters, she left Magnus feeling like she should be just a little bit smarter. _To each their own_, he supposed.

However, just as surely that he knew that there was nothing going on between the two of them, he knew that Alec loved Jace. _He doesn't _really_ love him,_ he reassured himself, but nevertheless, Alec did fancy himself in love with Jace and he refused to relinquish his feelings for him. Magnus flipped on the television and tried not to take it personally.

* * *

**A/N: ****I can promise that all of the updates won't be nearly as quick as this one was, but I started this a couple of days ago and it took me until today to make up my mind about posting the story.**

**Thanks to everyone who took the time to read, favourite, alert and review in the short time that this has been up.**

**Again, comments and criticisms would be greatly appreciated.**

**As always, everything you see belongs to Cassandra Clare.**


	3. Baby, come over, I need entertaining

**Chapter Two:**

**Baby, come over, I need entertaining**

_Alec awoke to a loud crash. _What the hell?_ He prised his eyes apart and fought the vertiginous sense of disorientation that he always felt upon awakening. It was still dark but the pale moonlight cast shadows across the landscape of his bedroom. He rolled over and grabbed his cell phone off of his night stand, flipping it open to check the time. Its backlighting seemed brighter than ever and he screwed his face in pain as the light burned his eyes. 2:38 AM. He groaned. _

_That noise again, this time followed immediately by laughter. Two voices, one masculine, one feminine. _Isabelle._ Irritated, Alec remembered that she had sneaked out earlier, he assumed to visit Meliorn. Luckily for her, their parents weren't home, still in Alicante on business, and Hodge – dear, sweet, _oblivious_ Hodge – slept like the dead._

"_Wait, wait – no, it's over here!" More incessant giggling. _

_It was obvious to Alec that Isabelle had been drinking. What a surprise. As irritating as the giggling was, he was more disturbed by the silence. What was she playing at?_

_He didn't have to wonder long._

"_Isabelle, I –" The voice was silenced, presumably by his sister. _So uncalled for_, he groaned inwardly. The thought of his sister making out in the hallway outside his door was a mental image that he most definitely did not need. Not for the first time, Alec cursed himself for being such a light sleeper. There was a dull thud as they slammed into what sounded like a door frame. There was some fumbling – Alec heard the door click open and then slam shut behind them._

_They were silent for a few minutes but soon – much, much too soon – Alec heard the telltale sound of his sister getting lucky next door. Not wanting to hear any more, he rolled onto his stomach and clamped his pillow over his ears. It was going to be a long night._

_He tried to sleep – honest, he did – but the harder that he tried to ignore the sounds coming from his sister's bedroom, the more awake he became. It was like driving by the scene of an accident, except worse. Because it was his sister. _And she was having sex.

_2:51 AM._

_3:03 AM._

For the love of all that is holy!

_3:17 AM._

_3:26 AM._

_3: 34 AM._

Why won't it stop?!

_3:36 AM._

Well I would think it'd be about time. _Alec was pissed. Scratch that, he was relieved that the sex had stopped – but he was wide awake. He not only couldn't sleep but was also, admittedly, a little excited. Turned on. Hot under the collar, hot and bothered. Not about his sister, of course, or Meliorn either for that matter. The object of his desire was actually someone quite different; Alec could not stop thinking about Magnus Bane._

*

Alec was shivering. What was taking Magnus so long? Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he brought his hands together and rubbed them frantically, hoping that the friction would warm them. He glanced around impatiently, regretting his last minute decision to leave the Institute without his jacket. It was getting colder and winter was fast approaching. During the weeks to come, the vibrancy of the city would be systematically stripped away and an indeterminate monochromatic dreariness would settle in its place.

Just as he turned away, having decided that Magnus wasn't home, the front door opened and Magnus peeked out.

"Alexander."

"Magnus, hey."

Magnus opened the door slightly wider but made no effort to invite Alec inside. Oblivious to this, Alec took a step forward. "It's freezing out here!" Having been left with no real choice – he couldn't shut the door in his face – Magnus stepped aside and allowed Alec to enter.

Alec made his way past Magnus and into the small sitting room just off the foyer. The room welcomed him warmly, heat radiating outward from the brick fireplace at the focus of the room where a small fire sparked quietly against the grate and began to thaw his frozen limbs. He stretched himself out on the sofa and sighed contentedly. "I," he announced, "am exhausted. Every muscle in my body aches. Remind me again why I do this to myself."

Magnus, who had followed him in and was now standing a few feet away, regarded him curiously but said nothing.

"I mean, honestly," he continued, seemingly oblivious to Magnus's disinterested stare, "I know that Jace is stronger than me. I know how things are going to end: with me getting my ass kicked. Every. Single. Time."

Magnus remained silent.

"You'd think that I'd learn eventually. Although," Alec's eyes shone mischievously, "maybe I _like_ pain, maybe I'm a masochist."

"Maybe you are," Magnus's face was dark, "and maybe I am, too."

Alec shot him a baffled look. "What on Earth do you mean by that?"

Magnus crossed his arms across his rail-thin chest and finally spoke, "Nothing."

"Magnus," Alec pleaded, "you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it. What did you mean?"

"Alec," he paused, "I think you should go."

Startled, Alec sat up abruptly. "You want me to leave? Magnus, I just got here!" It was then that Alec noticed exactly how _tired_ the warlock looked. His face was uncharacteristically free of makeup and he'd done nothing to his hair which flopped, dejectedly, across his brow. Dark circles framed his eyes and his mouth was pinched. As he stared at Magnus, who was clad only in a pair of dark jeans and a knitted black pullover – he'd obviously decided to forgo socks – he realised that it was the first time he'd even seen him in anything that couldn't be described as "flamboyant." His choice of wardrobe today made "drab" seem exciting.

"Please."

Alec was concerned, though he didn't know what worried him more: Magnus's appearance or his composure; both were completely out of character. "Magnus," he urged, "what's going on with you?"

Magnus opened his mouth to respond and then stopped himself. He started again, "I'm fine."

Alec rose from the couch and closed the distance between them, reaching out to him. If anything was making sense tonight, it was that he obviously wasn't fine. Magnus stepped backwards and out of his reach.

"Don't touch me, Alec."

Alec couldn't mask the hurt that flashed across his face. He looked as though he'd been slapped, his cheeks stained with red. "What the hell is your problem?"

Magnus stepped past him and exited the room, Alec following close behind him.

"Don't walk away from me!"

Magnus reached the stairs and began to climb.

Alec followed him, half a dozen steps behind. "Magnus, listen, if I did something to upset you –"

"_Drop _it_._"

"No. I'm not going to drop it until you tell me what the hell is going on with you!" Yelling by this time, their voices echoed angrily off of the dark wood walls.

Almost to the stop of the staircase, Magnus whirled around. He was _furious._ "You really want to know what I'm thinking, Alec?" he asked menacingly, "You want to know what's going on in my head?" He descended the stairs and forced Alec to do the same. "I'm tired –"

Alec cut in, "So you decided to take it out on me? You know, that's really rich coming from –"

Magnus's eyes glowed. "You misunderstood me," he said coldly, "I'm sick and tired of _this_."

Alec's face fell. He felt his equilibrium shift and it became a struggle to stay upright. "You mean me," he corrected him, "you're sick and tired of me."

"It's not you, Alexander," Magnus's face had softened fractionally at Alec's words. "I just can't do this. I can't live in hiding anymore. I can't stand you being ashamed of me – of _us_."

"So, I'll come out to my parents, then – I promise I will – I just need a little time. I'll tell everyone," Alec was rushing now, "My parents, Isabelle, Jace –"

Magnus started laughing – a high, hysterical laugh that frightened Alec. "Jace?" he gasped between spurts of laughter, "_Jace_? You're going to tell _Jace_? "

"Yes, I promise. I'll tell everyone," he repeated earnestly, "I'll do whatever you want."

It took Magnus awhile to catch his breath but once he had, he took a moment to prepare himself. He took a deep breath. "I refuse to stand here and act as a substitute for Jace, Alec," he declared, "I can't and I won't."

Alec had no response. "Magnus, please, just – don't do this," he finished lamely.

Magnus moved toward his front door and opened it. "What I want right now is for you to leave. If and when you're ready to do this – to _really_ do this – I'll be here."

Alec pushed past him and walked out into the cold, the door clicking softly behind him.

* * *

**A/N: So here is the next installment. Thanks again to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and favourited. It's incredibly flattering.**

**All characters, etc. belong to Cassandra Clare.**

**Comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated!**


	4. C'est dur d'oublier ce que l'on connait

**Chapter Three:**

**C'est dur d'oublier ce que l'on connait et ce qui imprègne nos peaux**

**(It's hard to forget what we know and what soaks our skin)**

"_Get up. We're going to a party."_

_Alec glanced towards his door. Clad in a clingy strapless dress, Isabelle was leaning into the frame, staring at him intently. Waiting for some kind of affirmation?_

"_That's great," he dropped his head and went back to his reading._

_She sighed. "Alec, you're not listening – I said, we are going to a party. You and I – Jace, too."_

"_I'm sorry, I don't see why it's necessary that I be a part of this – you know how I feel about parties, Iz. I'd much rather stay home. I'm reading," he explained. He lifted the book he was reading and waved it in her general direction to prove his point._

_Isabelle walked over and sat down beside him on the edge of his bed. "Alec, listen," she started, "I don't know exactly what's going on, but Jace came to me and told me that he needed to find Magnus Bane. He said it was really important. I think he might be up to something."_

_Alec knew the name. "Magnus Bane?" he asked. "As in the warlock?" _

"_As in the High Warlock of Brooklyn."_

_Alec was confused. What reason could Jace possibly have for needing to speak to Magnus Bane?_

"_Yeah, I know. Weird, right? That's why you're coming. Now get up, we're leaving." She rose and walked towards the door. As she'd done before, she paused in the door way and turned around. "And Alec? You might want to consider changing your sweater. It's heinous."_

*

After Magnus had kicked him out, Alec had walked the entire way back to the Institute. He'd intended to catch a cab, of course, but somewhere in between the two, he'd gotten distracted. By the time he'd detangled himself from the numbness inside his head, he'd been so close that there wouldn't have been any point in doing so.

Two weeks had passed and he'd heard nothing from Magnus. This surprised him. Although the warlock had always been prone to horrific mood swings, he'd usually come around within a few days, but this time was different. Alec knew he'd never seen Magnus as he'd been that night.

Alec was miserable. He hadn't slept in days and he knew he looked it. Isabelle and Jace were concerned, but he deflected their inquiries each time they voiced their concerns. He didn't want to talk about it. There wasn't anything to say.

Tonight he'd politely declined their invitations to go to a movie. When they'd been children, they'd all loved going to the movies and mingling with the mundanes. The novelty of gawking at the oblivious humans was almost comparable to a trip to the zoo, but it was more than that. For just a couple hours, they could take a step back from their lives and pretend that they lived in a simpler world.

*

_Magnus wasn't listening. His companion, a dark-skinned faerie whom he'd been seeing casually, was boring him. Although he usually thrived on gossip, tonight he couldn't be bothered because his attention was otherwise engaged._

_He'd noticed the boy earlier, when he'd come in with a group of Shadowhunters and mundanes. The rest of his party had paired off – the tall blonde male Shadowhunter with the small mundane girl, the beautiful raven-haired female Shadowhunter with the mousy mundane boy – and he'd been left alone. He stood awkwardly on the fringe of the crowd alone with a curious expression on his face. He watched the others carefully, as if he were studying them, filing their actions away for later study. Magnus was intrigued. He'd never seen anything quite like him._

"_Fuck me if I'm wrong, but haven't we met before?"_

_The boy jumped in surprise. He hadn't seen him coming. His eyes, intensely blue, fringed with the most beautiful lashes – like a girls' Magnus noted enviously – he'd ever seen, met Magnus's own uncertainly. "Um – no, I don't believe we _have_ met," his voice was huskier than Magnus had expected and he offered his hand. "I'm Alec."_

_Magnus shook his hand. "Short for Alexander, I presume? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Magnus Bane." He held onto Alec's hand a little longer than necessary and when he did break contact, dragged his nails across the Shadowhunter's palm. "So," he purred seductively, "my place or yours?"_

*

Hours later, after having heard Isabelle return, Alec realised that he couldn't hide from the world forever and decided to go looking for Jace. He'd had more than enough of his own company.

He knocked on Jace's door. There was no answer. _He's probably got his iPod in,_ Alec rationalised and let himself in. As the door opened, he heard an odd noise – somewhat like a gasp – come from the general direction of Jace's bed. The room was sparsely lit, much darker than the bright overhead lighting in the hallway, and it took Alec's eyes a moment to adjust.

Jace was not alone. Nor was he clothed.

"Oh, my God!" Alec turned away and covered his eyes, "I'm so sorry! I thought – I didn't think you were here!"

"Alec! Get out of here!" Clary shrieked as she struggled to clothe herself.

Jace, shameless and completely unperturbed, had started pulling his pants back on as a concession to Alec's modesty.

As Alec scrambled out of the room, he could hear Jace laughing behind him. He ran back to his room and slammed the door. His heart thudded painfully against his chest and he felt slightly hysterical. _What _was _that?_ Fighting the urge to laugh, Alec approached the mountain of dirty laundry that had accumulated on his floor in the last two weeks – it was offensive, it really needed to go – and began sorting it in a search for normalcy. _Jace and Clary, Clary and Jace. Together._ _I should be upset by this_, he decided. He wrinkled his face in confusion. _I love Jace. I _love _him. Why am I not more upset by this?_ He replayed it over and over again in his mind, analysing and critiquing it in an endlessly cyclical fashion. He didn't know how long he sat there on the floor but no matter how he looked at it, the truth was staring – it was more of a glare, actually – him in the face. Walking in on Jace with a girl hadn't bothered him.

As he picked up his last pair of jeans from the floor, he felt a bulge in one of his pockets. _That's odd_. Alec never kept anything in his pockets. He pulled it out and stared at it. It was a sock. A hot pink sock. Alec was completely baffled. _What the hell...?_ He turned it over in his hands and noticed a small hole in the end. And then it hit him. Alec felt like he was going to be sick. It was so obvious now, why he'd been so fine with seeing Jace with Clary. He didn't love Jace – not now, anyway. Maybe he never had._ Magnus_, he breathed, _it was Magnus._ For the first time since he'd left Magnus's apartment, Alec was struck by what it meant to have royally fucked up.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't mean to post this last night, so first off I'd like to apologise to anyone who alerted the story. I promise I wasn't stringing you along on purpose!**

**I took a little bit of artistic license with Magnus's party. Forgive me.**

**I know that there's been a lot of sadness and angst so far, but I promise that good times _are_ coming! Thanks for sticking with it!**

**Comments and criticisms are always appreciated (plus, they make me happy) so let me know what you think!**

**The Mortal Instruments, its characters, et al. belongs to Cassandra Clare**


	5. But just being around you offers me anot

**Chapter Four:**

**But just being around you offers me another form of relief**

"_You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness.' You call yourself a free spirit, a 'wild thing,' and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well, baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."_

Moisture pricking at the corners of his eyes, Magnus heaved a sigh. _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ was complete, utter perfection but tonight even his favourite movie was lacking in the ability to rouse him from the pit of despair into which he'd sunk. He missed Alec. It wasn't that he regretted what he'd done – he'd have done it over again if given the chance – but he hated himself for it all the same. His pain was no longer as sharp as it had been. On the contrary, it'd progressed into a constant dull ache and settled firmly in his chest. It was the realisation that he no longer missed Alec as unbearably as he once had that was breaking his heart all over again.

He couldn't bear to watch any more. As the screen went black, he rose and began making his way to his fire escape as he always did after watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. It wasn't just an homage to his favourite movie – he often sought it out when he needed time to clear his head. As he approached the window, he heard a blunt knocking noise coming from outside. _What on Earth?_ Magnus opened his window and gazed intently into the dark.

"_Magnus!"_

Two storeys below, Alec Lightwood was swaying and slurring his words, clutching a palmful of assorted small rocks in his hand.

"Alec? What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Magnus hissed from the window.

Alec grinned, stupidly. "I had to see you, Magnus. I _miss_ you. Won't you please just lemme in?"

"Are you –" Magnus stopped, incredulous, "Alec, are you _drunk_?"

Alec barked a laugh. "Nooo, 'course not. Do you know who I _am_?" He was shouting now. "I am _Alec Lightwood. _Alec Lightwood does not get drunk!"

"Alec, you have to be quiet!" Magnus grimaced as he pictured the looks on his neighbours' faces. He debated allowing Alec to continue to make a fool out of himself as he undoubtedly would until someone called the cops.

_But what if he says something about our world?_

_I could fix their memories._

For a few seconds, he weighed his options very carefully. An image of a dark-haired Shadowhunter stumbling around the city, lost, drunk, flashed through his mind. It was Alec – Alec, who should not drink. He couldn't do it.

"Alec," he called down, irritated, "for the love of God, shut up. I'll be right there." Mentally kicking himself, Magnus pulled himself back in and rushed downstairs.

"Hi."

Alec was waiting for him on his doorstep, wearing what he must've thought to be an appropriately repentant expression on his face. Magnus could see that he was struggling to keep his laughter under control. Glaring, he ignored him and stepped aside to let him enter. Magnus closed the door behind Alec, slid the lock into place, and ushered him into the kitchen.

A little unsteady on his feet, Alec dropped himself onto a stool and watched as Magnus went about preparing some coffee. The void between them was immeasurable and they were both apprehensive about being the first to bridge it. Magnus poured the steaming black liquid into two ceramic mugs and placed one in front of Alec. He took a bracing sip of his own and set it back on the counter

"So," he started, "what are you doing here?"

Alec sent a flirtatious wink his way.

_Jesus._ "Alec," Magnus threatened, "I have neither the time nor the inclination for this, right now. It's almost 3 o'clock in the morning. Say what you've come to say or get out."

Alec sobered immediately. "I wanted to see you."

"Then you've done what I've asked?" Magnus held his breath and awaited Alec's answer.

The Shadowhunter raised his eyes guiltily from the spot they'd been occupying on the granite countertop. "No," he admitted, shamefully.

"Then I think it's best that you leave," Magnus responded flatly, his head spinning. He stared Alec full in the eyes.

"Magnus!" Alec shouted, suddenly angry, "Why are you doing this? I love you!"

Magnus felt nauseous. Alec had never said it before. _I love _you, _Alec. _"It's not enough."

"Yes, it _is_! Do you know why I'm like this?" Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a hot pink piece of fabric, hurling it onto the counter, "It's a fucking _sock,_ Magnus. Do you know what I realised tonight? I love _you_. I don't love Jace. He never mattered to me, not like that. Do you know how miserable I've been?"

"I do," Magnus responded softly.

"Then why are you doing this?" Alec's voice was hoarse with desperation and it broke Magnus's heart to hear it.

"Alexander, please," Magnus felt physically ill.

"Don't 'Alexander, please' me! Why are you doing this? It doesn't _have_ to be this way!"

"I'm sorry. I don't know how we can go back, Alec."

"So that's it? That's all you have to say?" By this time Alec's eyes had filled and a lone tear had escaped his control and rolled down his cheek. He brushed it away angrily.

Magnus was silent.

"I guess I've got my answer, then, haven't I?" Alec stood abruptly, pushing his stool from the counter with a loud clatter on the tiled floor. "Fine. I think I should probably go."

Magnus watched as Alec got up and walked away from him. Alec only made it half way to the front door before he caught up to him. Grabbing him about the crook of his elbow, he spun him around.

"Wait, don't go," Magnus pleaded, "Stay with me, Alec."

* * *

**A/N: I know that I promised happier times in this chapter, I just wasn't quite able to make it there in this chapter. It seemed a logical place to split it. They are coming!**

**The Mortal Instruments et al. belong to Cassandra Clare. The quote at the top is from Breakfast at Tiffany's. I own neither of these.**

**Thanks to everyone for reading. Comments, reviews and criticisms would be _much_ appreciated as they've kind of died off in the last couple of days. I'm really curious to know what you are all thinking, good or bad, so let me know!**


	6. Lay me back down where I want to stay

**Chapter Five:**

**Lay me back down where I wanted to stay**

"Stay with me, Alec," Magnus repeated.

Alec's eyes filled and he swallowed loudly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Subtle notes of alcohol still lingered on Alec's breath and the smell of stale smoke invaded Magnus's senses. Their noses grazed as he leaned in and when their lips met Alec inhaled sharply. Magnus released his grip on Alec's forearms and enfolded him in his arms. Alec responded by knotting his fingers in Magnus's hair. Dragging his nails lightly across Magnus's scalp, he kissed him back passionately.

Something wet touched Magnus's cheek and he broke away. "Alec, are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

Alec's eyelashes were sparkling with moisture and he was unable to answer.

_Shit._ "It's okay, Alexander," Magnus reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

When Alec's bottom lip began to quiver, Magnus took his hand and guided him upstairs. When they entered his bedroom, Alec's eyes clouded but Magnus escorted him past the bed and into his bathroom. He dropped Alec's hand and approached his bathtub, a gorgeous claw-footed stand-alone antique, and began filling it with water, half-sitting on its lip.

"You're going to take a bath?" Alec croaked, shooting him a perplexed look.

Magnus smiled slowly. "No, boozy. The bath's for you."

"I'm not that drunk," Alec protested, only slurring a little.

"If you say so."

The conversation was slightly stilted but neither of them took any notice. When the bathtub had filled with water, Magnus flicked off the taps and rose.

Alec reached for the bottom of his sweater as if to remove it, but before he could, Magnus stopped him with a light touch.

"Let me." It was not a request.

The warlock gently peeled the clothes from Alec's body, one article at a time. It wasn't the first time he'd seen him naked – he had sneaked an unprofessional look or two on the few occasions which he'd had to heal him – but it was the first time that he had really _seen_ his body. He took his time and it wasn't until he was finished that he noticed Alec was shivering delicately.

"You're beautiful," he whispered and, after gently pressing his mouth to Alec's shoulder, began helping him into the bathtub, resisting the urge to join him.

_Keep it _together, _Magnus._

Had he been in a better frame of mind he'd have appreciated the way that Alec's absurdly skinny knees jutted from the water but humour was entirely lost on him tonight. After Alec had laid back and relaxed, Magnus kneeled near his feet and leaned against the bathtub's edge, cushioning his chin on his crossed forearms.

They sat in silence until all of the water's heat should have been lost to the atmosphere. _I love magic_, Magnus thought, not for the first time.

It was he who spoke first.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened, tonight?"

Alec sighed. He started off by explaining about having inadvertently walked in on Jace with Clary. "If you're asking me why I'm so shamefully drunk," he concluded, "it was your sock."

It was Magnus's turn to feel guilty. "About that –"

"I know you did it on purpose," Alec interrupted, "and it doesn't matter. It's just that finding it made me realise for the first time what it was I'd actually lost."

Magnus straightened, "Alec –"

"Lemme finish, 'kay?" When Magnus didn't respond, Alec continued. "I've never felt like that before. I didn't know that it was possible to feel like that. I hated myself and I missed you more than I thought any one person could." Undisguised pain flashed across his face. "I love you, Magnus, and I'm so sorry if I ever made you doubt it."

Magnus stood and felt tears prick hot between his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know."

He left the room and returned with a stack of linens. He held open a sumptuous bath towel and waited expectantly. Alec got the hint and stepped out of the tub and was enveloped as Magnus began to dry him. Once he finished, he handed Alec a pair of silk pyjamas in a blue so dark it was almost black. "Take your time," he murmured and walked out to give him some privacy.

In the safety of his own bedroom, Magnus began systematically turning down his bed. There were many things that he used magic for, but his bed was never one of them. Just as he finished, Alec appeared at the door.

"Come to bed."

Alec wandered over towards him. For the first time, Magnus noticed exactly _how_ drunk Alec really was, as he swayed and caught himself against the dresser which rattled its protest loudly under his weight. When he was finally within reach, Magnus reached out and guided him into the bed, pulling the heavy comforter up around his shoulders. He laid a feather-light hand on Alec's forehead, smoothing his uncharacteristically disordered hair from his brow.

"Sleep, Alec."

Alec's eyes, which had drooped shut, struggled to open. "Aren't you coming?" he slurred adorably.

A slow smile spread across Magnus's features. "I'll be just a minute."

"Try to sleep," he called back softly as he walked away.

In the bathroom, Magnus was leaning over the sink. After brushing his teeth, he splashed some cold water onto his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

_I look like shit._

It was true. After a few minutes had passed, he returned to the bedroom clad in his favourite brocade dressing robe.

He'd flicked off the lights as he'd left, hoping that the darkness would have lulled his charmingly inebriated companion into sleep. He was glad he'd done so – the poor lamb _really_ needed to sleep it off – but it was making it incredibly difficult for him to creep back into the room soundlessly. His curtains hadn't been opened since before Alec had left that night so there was not even any moonlight to aid him. As he dropped his robe and eased himself into bed – he thought he'd done a good job – he realised that Alec was still awake.

As Magnus laid there, wordlessly, in the dark, he heard the bed creak and felt, rather than saw, Alec move towards him. As the Shadowhunter nestled his body again his own, Magnus stiffened slightly.

Alec's head lifted from the spot it'd found in the crook of Magnus's shoulder. "Why, Magnus," he whispered suggestively, "you're not wearing any pyjamas!"

_Shouldn't he have started to sober up a little by now?!_

Magnus swallowed loudly. "I, um, I don't like them," he admitted, slightly embarrassed, "I only wore them last time you stayed over because I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"How very _noble_ of you," Alec quipped, lowering his head and tossing an arm across Magnus's thin chest. He sat up suddenly and Magnus's eyes had adjusted enough to faintly make out that Alec had begun unbuttoning his top. "Fair's fair!" he trilled happily.

"Come on, Alec," Magnus grabbed his wrist and yanked it away, "keep your clothes on."

Alec switched hands and continued undoing his shirt. He was remarkably dexterous for someone as inexperienced and drunk as he was.

"_Alexander_!" Magnus scolded but was secretly amused.

"What?" Alec paused and Magnus could hear the smirk in his voice, "Did you want to do it for me?"

_Yes._

Magnus was silent.

"Come on, Magnus!"

Although Magnus refused to answer him, Alec was not to be discouraged. Having flung his top to the floor, he took up his former spot against Magnus's shoulder. Curling against him, he rubbed his bare chest up against Magnus's side.

"That's much better, isn't it?" Alec was practically purring.

_He's awfully pleased with himself_, Magnus noted sarcastically.

"You know," Alec pouted, lacing his fingers through the dark hair that scarcely covered Magnus's thin chest, "you're making this incredibly difficult for me."

I'm_ making this incredibly difficult for _you?

A low chuckle rumbled in deep Magnus's chest. "I'm sorry," he struggled to keep his voice even, "but what is it that I'm making difficult?"

Alec let out an exasperated sigh and explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm _trying_ to _seduce_ you, you idiot."

Magnus couldn't help it. He roared with laughter.

"_Magnus,_" Alec sulked, "it's not supposed to be funny."

"Oh, Alec," Magnus laughed, after he'd gotten himself under control, "I _do _love you."

"I don't believe you," Alec said, clearly pissed off, "if you _loved_ me, you would _want_ me. You wouldn't be pushing me _away_."

Magnus turned over until he was hovering above Alec. "Don't _want _you?" he asked darkly, their faces less than an inch apart. As their mouths fused, an anxious noise escaped Alec. For once, Magnus refused to hold back. It didn't matter that Alec was inexperienced and he didn't care about scaring him. Alec's lips were soft and pliable beneath his own and he forced the young Shadowhunter's mouth open and explored its recesses with his tongue. It wasn't until Alec's hand came up to his chest that Magnus pulled away and returned to his previous position on the bed. He waited until his heart rate had returned to normal before speaking.

"I've made it a rule not to engage in sexual relations with anyone who's barely sober enough to consent."

_Especially when I know they'll regret it in the morning. _

"You can call me old fashioned, if you'd like," Magnus rasped, "but don't say that I don't want you."

Alec didn't respond.

"Alec?"

He was asleep.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**I'm really curious to know what you guys are thinking so please review - all comments and criticisms (good or bad, whatever!) are greatly appreciated.**

**The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare.**


	7. Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna ba

**Chapter Six:**

**Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day**

Alec felt like he'd been hit by a bus. He forced his eyes open and cursed as sunlight poured in. Bleary-eyed, he struggled to orient himself.

_This isn't the Institute_. _But if this isn't the Institute, then where –_?

_Oh shit. _

Magnus.

As some of the events of the previous night flooded back to him, he emitted an audible moan.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Alec rolled over gingerly and felt the whole room roll with him. Fighting the urge to vomit, he tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to focus his eyes on the warlock next to him. At least Magnus didn't look like he'd been hit by a bus.

"Kill me," he begged him, "kill me, now."

"Well, that wouldn't be any fun for _me_, now would it?"

Alec shot him a glare, the most convincing one he could muster in his debilitated state. Magnus most certainly did not look like he'd been hit by a bus. Clad in his housecoat, his hair was wet and freshly combed and the scent of mint toothpaste was wafting towards Alec, doing nothing for his nausea.

"What the hell happened last night?"

"It would appear," Magnus was containing his amusement remarkably well, "that you fell into the bottle. Probably more than one, if we're to be entirely honest."

"I hate you."

"On the contrary, my dear. You _love_ me."

Alec groaned. He'd forgotten about that.

"Fortunately for you," Magnus continued, "I love you, too, and have no desire to watch you suffer any further."

A cool glass was pressed into Alec's hand.

"Drink this. It'll help."

Magnus helped him into a sitting position and brought the glass to his lips. Alec swallowed all of the purple grape-flavoured liquid and immediately felt drowsy. As his limbs grew heavy, Magnus guided him back to the bed. The last thing that Alec remembered before falling back into the void of sleep was the brush of Magnus's lips against his cheek.

*

The next time that Alec awoke, the room was stationary and he no longer had to fight to steady himself. Magnus's bedroom was not quite as bright as before, but he could tell by the angle of the sunlight that warmed the room that it was still morning. Magnus was gone.

Slightly apprehensive, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and padded out of the bedroom. As the door swung open, his nostrils were filled with the scent of breakfast being cooked downstairs. By the time that he reached the kitchen, he was wringing his hands anxiously.

Magnus was standing at the stove with his back to the door. Alec watched him for a moment and then, drawing a deep breath, sneaked up behind him quietly. He embraced him from behind, nestling his chin on Magnus's shoulder. Magnus started as Alec's hands stopped and rested on his flat abdominal muscles.

"You scared me," he admitted, turning slightly.

Alec smiled shyly against his neck, "'Morning."

Magnus strained his neck to make eye contact. "You look significantly better than you did the last time I saw you."

Alec snorted lightly.

"I'm serious."

"I don't doubt it," Alec squeezed him gently, almost imperceptibly. "I really appreciate what you did for me, you know."

"You're welcome," Magnus smiled and continued stirring the eggs he was scrambling. "Would you mind popping in a couple of pieces of toast?"

Alec dropped his arms, reluctantly, and did what he asked. When their food was finished, they loaded their plates and took them to the small breakfast nook off the kitchen and sat down. They ate in companionable, if not slightly awkward, silence until Magnus pushed his plate away.

"We need to talk."

_What did you expect? He broke up with you, remember?_

Alec's heart hit the floor. "We're back to that, again?"

Magnus looked down at his hands.

"Damn it, Magnus –"

The light streamed it, playing in Magnus's dark hair, bringing out all of its dimensions, making it even more lustrous than it already was.

_Fuck you for being _so_ attractive_.

"Alec, you –"

"– I came here because I made a mistake." Alec was raging now. "I know that now. Can't you just let it go?"

"_Alec._ We need to talk _about what happened last night._"

"I mean, honestly – why d'you always have to –" Alec stopped, "_oh_. Last night. Right, sorry."

Magnus was smirking. "Testy, are we?"

"Maybe."

"Listen, Alec, you can't do things like that. Do you not understand how dangerous was? What if something had happened to you?"

Guilt flashed across Alec's face. "Magnus, I'm really sorry."

"I'm sure you are, but Alec –"

"No, I am. I know that it was irresponsible. I just feel like I need to explain myself."

Magnus waited expectantly.

"I always knew that I was different. I wasn't like other people. I tried so hard to be, but I couldn't. It didn't matter what I did, nothing worked. I thought that there was something wrong with me, Magnus," his voice broke and his brows furrowed as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

Magnus laid a warm hand onto Alec's and squeezed a silent show of support.

"As I got older, when I realised that I was _gay_, I felt a little bit better. I knew that I felt different from everyone else because I _was_ different, it wasn't something I'd made up in my head," he paused again before continuing. "But at the same time, I felt like I'd done something to deserve it. I felt like I was being _punished_. "

"Alec."

"I did. I was so ashamed of myself but it was like no matter how hard I tried to stop being like that, I couldn't."

"Of course you couldn't." Magnus had gone a sickly colour beneath his tan and when he looked down at their hands on the table was not surprised to see that their fingers were now intertwined tightly.

"And then I met you."

"You met me and –?"

"And I fell in love with you and my whole life changed. I've never let anyone in before. Even when I thought I loved Jace. It wasn't the same. I think that on some level I knew that and it scared the hell out of me," he admitted, shaking his head slowly. "And before I knew it you were gone and it was my fault and I hated myself for being responsible for it all. I can't do it again, Magnus. I can't go back to that."

Magnus leaned toward him. "You don't have to," he whispered against his mouth before meeting Alec's lips as gently as he could.

Alec sighed softly and kissed him back desperately. Their hands had somehow separated and he now had one hand resting against Magnus's heart, could feel it beating confidently within his chest.

Something must have broken Magnus's concentration for he pulled back suddenly and stared at Alec. His hand came up again to steady Alec's own. He had not noticed that he'd been shaking slightly.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated and I'm sorry. I had three papers to write _and_ I was sick :(**

**This chapter's a little short but I felt terrible having not written in so long.**

**I promise that the next chapter willl be longer and up much quicker than this one!**

**I've got the story pretty well plotted but I would be curious to know where you guys think that it's going.**

**Questions, suggestions, comments, criticisms? I'd love to hear them all - the good, the bad, the ugly - so feel free to leave me a review ;)**

**Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare.**


	8. Your hills and valleys are mapped by my

**Chapter Seven**

**Your hills and valleys are mapped by my intrepid fingers**

As Magnus stilled Alec's trembling hand he realised how much more it meant to hear Alec say these things sober. It wasn't that he hadn't believed him the night before. He knew that Alec had meant the things he'd said as much as he'd been able to. He'd been worried, though, that the arrival of the morning light would change things as it so often does in matters of the heart.

_He really loves me._

Alec was uncharacteristically confident this time around and it was he who took the initiative to vanish the distance between them. Impatient and demanding, he urged Magnus's mouth open and as their tongues met, Magnus knew that he could not remember ever being as turned on as he was in that moment.

_We're still sitting at the kitchen table._

The realisation hit him out of nowhere and the sheer bizarreness of made him burst into laughter with Alec's tongue still inside his mouth.

Alec stilled and Magnus saw his features mask themselves in righteous indignation.

_He thinks I'm laughing at _him.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "but doesn't this strike you as a somewhat inappropriate locale for our first _real_ amorous reunion?"

Alec blinked and took in their surroundings.

"Ah, I see. Yes, yes it does," his mouth widening into an amused grin.

Magnus flicked his wrist and watched as all of the dishes vanished.

"All done, let's go!" he chirped, eagerly, grabbing Alec's hand and pulling him out of the kitchen behind him.

Though he'd intended to take Alec into the sitting room, he only made it a few steps into the hallway before he was roughly slammed against the wood panelled walls and felt Alec pressing into him insistently, their mouths fused together passionately.

_Dominant Alec? Hot._

Magnus couldn't help but be disappointed when he felt Alec's mouth vacate its position on top of his own – until it moved southward and began lavishing attention along his jaw.

_That's odd. I never told him about the spot under my – _

Alec's fevered lips connected with the underside of his jaw where his pulse skipped beneath his skin, burning at the place of contact. Fire raced along his nerves and hit him squarely in the stomach with enough force to make him gasp Alec's name aloud. He knotted his hands through his hair and tried to pull him closer. His attempts were useless – they couldn't have gotten any closer if they'd tried. It was almost as if Alec was trying to break through the barrier of his skin to fuse the two of them together. No, they couldn't have gotten any closer, but that didn't stop them from trying. Magnus lifted his leg and wrapped it around Alec's calf, trapping him. Alec met Magnus's lips again as his hands tugged his shirt loose from the waistband of his pants and were everywhere. They moved up Magnus's sides and across the toned muscles of his back and shoulders, eliciting another heated moan from Magnus's lips – and then they went lower – kneading the muscles on either side of his coccyx. Normally Magnus would be shrieking with laughter at this point – his lower back was unbearably ticklish – but he was finding nothing amusing in it at all at the moment.

When Alec's hands cupped Magnus's firm ass and pulled his hips to his own, Magnus could have screamed (**A/N: By 'screamed' here I really mean 'came in his pants'**). There could be no mistaking how turned on they both were, how badly they wanted this. Alec had never been so forward – usually Magnus felt like a scheming villain, twirling his moustache and trying to rob a reluctant young girl of her virtue – and Magnus was finding it unbelievably difficult to stay in control.

"Not here," he panted, dragging his lips away from Alec's only long enough to get the words out. The stumbled into the living room, still entangled. Alec tried to steer them towards the couch but must have forgotten about the low settee next to the couch, because the next thing he knew, they were both sailing through the air –

– until they landed in a pile of tangled limbs on a mattress that Magnus had fortunately had the insight to conjure on the way down. Magnus felt all of the air rush out of his chest as Alec's full weight hit him and his vision blurred as their skulls smashed together with a loud crack.

_Oh, dear Christ._

Alec rolled off to the side, clutching his forehead in his hands. "Oh, fuck," he moaned, screwing up his face.

"Can't...breathe..." Magnus wheezed, fighting the urge to vomit. "Concussed..."

The moment was ruined.

* * *

**A/N: I know that I said that this chapter would be longer, but it seemed like such a good place to cut it off :) Hopefully the quick update will compensate for that.**

**As I mentioned before, this is my first attempt at writing fiction of any kind outside of what I've done for school so I would really appreciate feedback.**

**It's a little disheartening to see the number of people who read, alert and favourite compared to the number of reviews since I _am_ writing this as a challenge to myself as a writer. So. Any and all q****uestions, suggestions, comments, criticisms are _greatly_ appreciated. You don't have to critique intensely (although that is always welcome). Just stop by and let me know what you think about the story so far! :)**

**Reviews encourage the writing process!**

**Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare.**


End file.
